Promise to Protect
by ArturusMyrddin
Summary: It is a time of prophecy, and Avalon beckons. But are Arthur and Merlin willing to blindly follow destiny's path. AU.
1. Prologue

Back in the midst of time the country was besieged by a sorcerers' war. Tribal chiefs did their best to protect their people from the magic exploding all around them. All seemed hopeless until, in a small remote village, one tribal leader embarked on a dangerous spiritual journey. After three days in a deep trance he returned to the physical world with what many believed was a way to control those with magic. For within weeks after his return the war was over. At first it was not understood how, or why, the war ended, but as the months turned to years it became painfully obvious that those with powerful magic were being enslaved by that magic to the tribal chiefs, bar one. Healers, and other low power magic users, were the only ones who seemed immune to the binding, unless a bound sorcerer preformed a blood binding spell to ensnare their magic. Only the chief who had braved the spiritual journey which ended the war was exempt from this magic enslavement of sorcerers.

Once those with magic realized how much control the tribal leaders actually had over their magic they began to actively try to control their numbers. Only about half of them had children, and those who did never had more then two. This meant that, over the years, their numbers began to shrink. Not only their numbers, but also their powers began to weaken as it was only those with very little power who chose to have children. Eventually the reason behind this forced binding was forgotten as small individual villages combined into Kingdoms, and a few tribal chiefs became Kings. The lone chief with whom magic users could experience freedom, founded the Kingdom of Caledonia. Those who were able to avoid capture by the royal witchfinders flocked there, and many made the choice to protect his line with their magic. This was indeed fortunate as all of this blood line were born with a soulmate, and a lifemate, who kept them alive.

The child may be born before, or after, their mates, but they only had until their twenty-fifth year to find at least one of them. At first it was only those inhabitants of the original village who were able to sense the call of loneliness that the blood of their King gave off, but over time this call began to be felt by those who came under the rule of the Caledonia bloodline. They helped search neighboring Kingdoms for someone who also gave off that same call of loneliness, in order to bring them home so they could be mated to the King. Unfortunately, this same courtesy could not be extended to the females of the line as they were often used as pawns in the game of treaties, and alliances. Only true lifemates could safely conceive, in fact the males could not perform in bed unless they were with their lifemate. This left the females cursed to only give birth to one child, always a male, and then dying shortly afterward. This fact was included in every treaty, or alliance, even if not openly admitted, and all males born of such unions would not be born with mates. For some reason they became able to bind the magic of sorcerers, just like all the other Kings outside of Caledonia.

This was how things stood over two centuries after the Great Sorcerers' War when just outside the western boundary of Caledonia, on an overcast morning, a small eight year old boy named Myrddin was scrambling up a rocky path. He had woken up early that morning with the certain conviction that something awaited him deep inside the cave that overlooked his village. Pausing to catch his breath on the small ledge just outside the cave entrance Myrddin looked out over his village into the view beyond. Something inside him knew with an odd certainty that his unknown father was dead. He was old enough to suspect what that meant and he shuddered with dread at the possibility. Turning back to the cave's entrance he sighed as his eyes noticed the lava rocks littering the ground just inside and the pale light of moonstones illuminating the interior. At least all signs where pointing to his being of dragonlord blood.

Dragonlords had only the smallest amount of magic, even mystical healers had more than they did, and were only able to sire one male child to inherit the power in their lifetime. With his father dead he would have the basic dragonlord abilities of calling forth new hatchlings, and talking to dragons. The ability to control dragons, and minor healing spells, would not manifest until his twenty-first year. The age at which all magic users came, fully, into their powers. As long as he was not a throwback to the dragonlords of old, ancient ancestors who were rumored to have been able to use dragon magic, he would not have to worry about having his powers bound by a King. Dragon magic was purely elemental, able to control air, water, fire, and earth with just a thought. Red dragons usually controlled fire, brown manipulated the earth, white wielded the air, and blue employed the water. According to the fairy tales passed down through the years dragonlords used to be able to use all of the elements to some degree, at great risk to themselves and others. He shuddered to think about what would happen to him should he be a throwback, and have even the slightest ability to manipulate dragon magic.

Steeling himself Myrddin made his way into the cave. Instinctively following the path of lava stone as it glowed under the glow of moonstone Myrddin ventured down into the cavern. Eventually he came to a small pool of hot lava, in the middle of which sat pearl white dragon's egg sat on a small rock pedestal that just barely cleared the bubbling liquid. His sky blue eyes darted here and there searching for a way to safely retrieve the small dragon's egg. Seeing no other option he bit his lower lip as he tried to think of a suitable name for the guardian dragon he suspected he was about to call forth. Nodding to himself he chose one before moving as close as he could to the edge of the lava pool. Wetting his lips he took a deep, fortifying breath to try and steel his nerves.

Softly he spoke one word, "Kilgharrah."

The small egg exploded with such force that Myrddin had to quickly drop and lay flat on the fround. His eyes were tightly closed and he had both hands tightly clasped over his head as deep booming laughter filled the cave, followed by a gravely voice that spoke of a world where magic was free once more. As the words seemed to vibrate up and out of the cavern and silence finally returned Myrddin slowly unclasped his hands so he could move his head to peek over at the pool of lava. There, bathing in the hot liquid, was a huge red dragon.

Slowly standing he let his eyes take in the sight of the fire dragon frolicking in the hot pool of lava. Kilgharrah's thick, heavy body almost shone as his hard, pronounced scales caught the light that danced around the cave. It was hard to picture how on Earth the large dragon had fit within the small egg but as fire dragons were fully capable of changing their size it wasn't as impossible as it seemed. Brushing the dirt off his clothes Myrddin pondered how he was going to handle a type of dragon best known to be very unpredictable, unreliable, and extremely difficult to work with even when they were within a sealed protection circle. He was jarred out of his thoughts by a hard head butt to his chest. Scowling, he bowed to the dragon in front of him.

Kilgharrah tilted his head first one way and then the other, as if weighing something. "You, but not you."

Puzzled Myrddin asked, "What?"

Kilgharrah just shook his head before saying, "Wrong end means danger to Emrys. Too young, must leave."

His forehead creased in thought Myrddin asked, "Are you saying that I have to leave home? With you?"

Kilgharrah nodded, then bumped his head into Myrddin's chest impatiently. "Now, must go now."

Myrddin stumbled backwards a little with the force of the bump. "Careful now little one. I will go with you if it is that important, but I need to tell my mother goodbye."

Kilgharrah growled deep in his throat, and that was all the warning Myrddin got before the angry dragon let loose with a carefully aimed torrent of fire. Myrddin had a brief second to jump slightly sidewards, in order to avoid getting burned by the outer edge of the flame. Once he was clear he turned to see what exactly Kilgharrah found so threatening. He was able to make out five knights, and a witchfinder, just before the raging fire blasted them into ash.

He took a deep breath as he slowly looked back to Kilgharrah. "Right, I am apparently more then I seem."

"Not you. Emrys."

"So, why does this seem to be personal to me?"

"Bind you. End Emrys. Need to go now. Too soon. Too small. All needs time, and patience."

Myrddin looked back to where the ashes smoldered before carefully moving to mount the dragon, who was now almost double in size. Once he was settled Kilgharrah tensed his leg muscles before giving a large push down against the ground to jump thrust himself into the air with a corresponding flap of his wings. As he circled ever higher towards the sky he could see through the top of the old volcano cavern Myrddin wiped the tears that were streaming down his face with the back of his right hand. Kilgharrah and Myrddin disappeared into the distant unknown, but Kilgharrah's prophecy echoed through the land.

As his words sent shivers of fear through five of the six Kings a royal position was created to account for each sexual encounter of all known magic users, even those within Caledonia. Seers were sent along to witness any births that came out of these encounters in the hopes that they would be able to identify which child was the one prophesied. The result was not what the Kings were expecting. The seers found that for a brief moment, only as long as the time between when the head came into view and when the rest of the body emerged, they could tell which child would inherit magic, and which would not. While the Kings were disappointed that the seers never did identify the child of prophecy, they were delighted with being able to take, and raise, future magic users. This not only proved advantageous for the royals, but also for the children. When the children turned twenty-one the binding spell immediately took effect at the exact same time they received their powers. It was found that this prompt binding resulted in these children having twice as much magic at their call than those who were bonded after that critical moment. Therefore the practice of having a seer at births became more widespread, and the prophecy faded into myth.

Six centuries later a seer within Caledonia was attending an Imbolic feast at the castle when the Queen went into labor. As the midwife was away helping with another birth the seer offered her limited expertise. Thus, for the first time, a seer was at the birth of a Caledonia royal heir. The vision she had showed a male born of Caledonia and foreign royal blood who would have a soul and life mate. No one was sure exactly what this vision meant, but the consensus was that it would be a child of an alliance marriage. The fear was that this young prince would need help finding his mates before his twenty-fifth year, and Caledonia would not know it because the call of loneliness would not echo throughout their Kingdom. To prevent the possibility of this future prince dying young, and without an heir, the Witan of Caledonia declared that in the eighteenth year of all children born of alliance, or treaty, marriages the First Knight of the Kingdom would make an official visit. In the hopes that he would be able to ascertain whether or not the child was the one the seer had seen in her vision.

Decades passed without the seer's vision becoming reality. The practice of checking on foreign royal offspring became a tradition with only a dim, half-remembered reason as to why it was important that the First Knight made the trip. What no one saw coming was the abduction of King Gorlois' youngest daughter, Ygraine. At first there was panic, and then there were the rumblings of war when it was discovered that it had been Prince Uther who had taken her. It was only the intervention of a pair of elders, who appeared at the war tents of King Gorlois and King Loth, that prevented bloodshed. No one knew who they were, where they came from, or what they said except for the Kings. Yet, because of them, Camelot and Caledonia signed a treaty that day. A treaty that included the disclosure regarding the death that awaited Ygraine upon the birth of Uther's son. A death that Uther seemed sure he would be able to stop with magic.

The following year was eventful as King Loth met his end during a border skirmish with Gwent, Uther took the throne, and Ygraine became pregnant. As the sun began to set on Winter Solstice Eve lightning flashed across the sky as the young prince howled his arrival into the world, and his mother quietly left it. King Uther emotionlessly watched as the midwife handed off his son to a very young, and very quiet wet nurse.

"Burn her," he said before angrily striding from the room.

Outside the Queen's room three of his five bound sorcerers stood, quietly chanting. Stalking past them, Uther sternly ordered, "Explode."

Power swirled and crackled in protest for a moment, but only for a moment. The air seemed to be sucked into a point before thundering outward, with such force that the three sorcerers blasted into a million pieces. Guts, brain, and blood splattered the floor and walls of the corridor a bright red, testifying to the dark power the binding spell had over a sorcerer.


	2. Chapter 1

The faint rays of the sun painted the sun with a slight reddish hue as it began to set. Just as it did all those years ago, the last flickering rays caught the shadowy outline of someone in the window of the keep's tower. Fifteen years ago Arthur had felt this same sense of expectation as he stared out over the courtyard below. He had been tiny enough at three years old to actually sit within the sill, with his small legs tucked up tight against his chest, and his chin resting atop his bony knees.

Unlike now it had been cold, and the pyres had been built. One of the older knights had found him quietly sitting there, and had tried to get him to go back to the royal nursery. Arthur smiled slightly as he remembered the knight's concerned look when his three year old self had refused to budge, saying, "Waiting."

Back then he had not understood why the knight had reacted the way he had, but now that the knight had thought Arthur had been waiting for the burnings to start. Then, as now, it had been something else that had dragged him out of his room, and up to this particular window in the keep so that he could watch the distant horizon. The pyres had been late that year, coming at Samhain instead of Lugnasad. When the knight had physically removed him from the window, Arthur had kicked him, saying, "Late."

That action had resulted in rumors of Arthur being emotionally scarred from viewing the burnings from the balcony beside his father. Two years later, when he had started his training to be a knight, he had learned of the rumors regarding how heartless, and bloodthirsty he was suppose to be. Knowing that these knights were loyal to his father, and not to him, Arthur had quickly turned those rumors to his advantage. He played up the image of being a callous, spoiled brat as best he could when he was younger. Gradually, as newer knights joined the ranks, he let bits and pieces of his real self appear, which slowly built a small core of knights who were loyal to him, and who he could trust.

Thinking back as his sky blue eyes searched the road he remembered how he had been frightened out of a deep sleep that Samhain night by an extremely loud booming thunder clap. How lying there, wondering what was going on, he had suddenly felt whole, and happy for the first time in his life. It had also been the last time that he had allowed himself to feel that happy, because over the years he had been forced to distance himself from anyone who wanted to be his friend. If someone had been seen by his father as being a 'soft' influence on his son that person's head was quickly removed from their body. Once Arthur had reached his teens his father backed off, but he had yet to find anyone in which he could place that much trust. Right now he felt hope again, but, of course, the object of that hope was late. Sighing he turned from the window, completely missing the figure slowly appearing over the distant hill.

Deep sea blue eyes anxiously looked out from beneath a lock of black hair that had fallen into them. Ananke had never steered him wrong, but actually sending him to Camelot to apprentice under the royal physician just seemed utterly mad to him. King Uther had burned infants and toddlers with magic potential for the first time the year before Merlin had been born, and, as far as Merlin knew, he still did whenever Uther was able to get his hands on them. As his village of Ealdor was right on the border of King Uther's and King Cedric's Kingdoms his mother had been terrified when he had been born with magic answering his every whim. Witchfinders from King Uther and King Cedric himself visited their village just after Meán Samhraidh every year to sense out anyone with magic fire that had been missed by the seers at birth.

About six generations back those of royal blood had been the first to notice that when they turned fifteen they developed the ability to somehow see the sleeping magic in those 'seen' by the seers as having magical potential. To them it appeared as if there was a light blue flame flickering around the future magic user's body. A generation later witchfinders found that they had developed the same ability, only their sight came at the age of twenty-one. This tell-tale flame of magic became known as magic fire, and it was this that his mother feared would give her son away. Ananke had appeared during his first year, and, while his mother slept, taken him to be viewed by King Cedric, and King Uther's witchfinders. He did not know until he was a lot older how strange it was that none of those individuals 'saw' the blazing flames of his magic, and, seeing as his magic was active, that he was not immediately bound to the King, even at that young age. At that time the only thing that had stood out in his young mind was the fact that no one else saw Ananke standing behind him, with a comforting hand on his shoulder.

It was only recently that he had begun questioning who, or what, Ananke was, especially after her most recent suggestion in regards to Camelot. Her last words to him had been, "Destiny will see your fire. Find your destiny, my child."

He sighed as he approached the drawbridge into the lower courtyard of Camelot. Hopefully Ananke was as benevolent as she seemed, and either a manifestation of his magic or a guiding otherworld force. Entering the lower courtyard he felt his magic begin to dance under his skin, and, all of a sudden, he felt lighter in spirit. What he failed to realize was that instead of heading up to the main gate, and into the upper bailey, he was actually wandering close to edge of the knights' training grounds. When the sounds of battle, and yelling, finally penetrated Merlin stopped short, and grimaced. Knights were bad news back in his village. They usually rode in for a bit of killing with a side of rape when they were bored. Hopefully he would be able to stay out of the way of these knights.

Running a hand through his hair he watched them beat on each other, his eyes drawn time and again to one particular knight. Blonde hair gleamed in the sunlight as the handsome, well-muscled knight fought against two of his fellows at the same time. Merlin shook his head as he tramped down hard on his magic when it tried to flare out and embrace the cocky knight. Turning to leave he walked right into one of the knights who had stepped over to exchange his sword for a mace.

"Watch it, peasant," the knight all but growled at Merlin.

Without thinking Merlin snapped at the knight, "Why do not you look where you are going yourself? You bullying ape."

The knight looked a bit shocked at that as he said, "Keep a civil tongue in your head, boy. That is no way to speak to your betters." He then drew back his hand to wallop Merlin a good one, only to find it caught by the blonde haired knight.

"Agravaine, go oversee the new prospects. I will handle this upstart."

Merlin could not help noticing that the older knight, Agravaine, did not like being ordered around by the younger one, but he bowed, and left the two of them alone. The knight looked Merlin over before saying, "That was not very smart. What is your name?"

Merlin smiled a little nervously as there was something about the look in this one's sky blue eyes that implied that the knight knew more than he should. Behind that was a sense of sadness that tugged at his heart, and made Merlin want to lighten the atmosphere, just a bit.

"Would not you like to know?" he asked teasingly before sticking his tongue out.

Merlin could see the knight try not to laugh just before a small, almost not there, chuckle left his lips. Cocking his eyebrow, the knight said, "You must really have a death wish. How about you just tell me why you are walking around Camelot unprotected. Usually someone with even a quarter of your magic fire has an armed escort in this kingdom."

Merlin's eyes went wide in shock, and he took a hesitant step backwards. The knight's hand quickly snaked out to catch ahold of Merlin's wrist. "Please do not run. I am Prince Arthur, and you are safe as long as you are with me," he said softly. Merlin bit his lip as the Prince's eyes bore into his, as if trying to find an answer to some unasked question. "Though I do not believe anyone else can see it, or you would already be headed for the pyre. I do find it strange that I can see it as I have never seen one, though I reached the age I should have started seeing them two years ago." Merlin was sure his face showed the same confusion that was now Arthur's face at those words. Arthur's thumb rubbed little circles on Merlin's wrist as he cautioned, "Still, if you run you may draw attention to yourself, and, here in Camelot, that could prove fatal."

Merlin tilted his head a little as he tried to figure out what Arthur's angle was, because this was not at all how someone of Arthur's upbringing normally acted. At least not in his experience, or knowledge. Arthur seemed to realize that Merlin was a little overwhelmed as he gave Merlin's wrist a small squeeze before letting him go, saying, "Wait here until I am done with today's lesson. I need a servant, and you need a protector until you come into that power. There is something about you that puzzles me enough to think that arrangement just might work for us. What have you got to lose?"

"My life, you prat."

Arthur smiled at Merlin as he nodded. "True."

Merlin smiled back at him. This felt right, and that was when it hit him. Arthur **SAW** his fire! His breath left him in a rush with the shock of it. Numbly he watched as Arthur rejoined the other knights on the training grounds. No way was a bloody knight his destiny, never mind one that was also a prince. Turning his back on the training ground he deliberately walked away, resuming his trek up to the main gates, and into the upper bailey. Making his way across the courtyard, and through the milling crows of trades people, Merlin located the stairs that led to the royal physician's quarters. Entering he found an elderly, grey haired man examining a dead woman.

"Um, hi."

"Have a seat. I will be right with you," the man said without looking up from the body.

Walking a little closer Merlin could see tiny, dark black spots peppering the corpse. Feeling slightly nauseous he said, "My name is Merlin. I was told to see the royal physician about an apprenticeship."

The man briefly looked up at him before nodding. "Good. I am Gauis, and you can start by closing that door."

* * *

I'm avoiding the use of words like can't, I'm, wouldn't, etc to make it read more 'old fashioned' and outdated. This means that there will be times things won't read right; ie: would not you like to know (reads weird) for wouldn't you like to know (which reads fine). Just keep that in mind :)


	3. Chapter 2

Merlin quietly closed the door before walking over to get a closer look at the body. He could now see that unlike the nasty carnivorous blood bugs that had plagued his village a few years ago these black spots were not swarming under the woman's skin. They also had a faint blueish tinge to them that kept pulsing with an almost invisible energy. He jumped back a little when one flared brightly, and pushed some of that energy towards him. In that moment several things happened all at once. His magic quickly whipped out, causing the corpse to burst into reddish-blue flames that destroyed all traces of the dark black spots. At the same time the door at his back opened, and Gauis flinched back, his hands flying away from the body.

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut as he muttered, "Oh shit."

"How did you do that?" asked Gauis at the same time that a familiar voice at his back quietly said, "Your magic is active..."

Heaving a sigh he slowly opened his eyes, licked his suddenly dry lips, and, looking only at Gauis, said, "I do not know what you are talking about. Do what exactly?"

He felt Arthur move closer to his back, and gritted his teeth against the surge of magic he felt when the prince laid the palm of his hand in the small of his back. Merlin had heard tales of how a sorcerer's magic would be forcibly wrenched by the binding spell into merging protectively with the royal bloodline. At least that was what most of the sorcerers were rumored as explaining how it worked. Apparently all sorcerers had been able to use their magic protectively with someone they trusted and choose to do so with, only never with someone their magic liked. The binding spell had taken this protective instinct within the magic and twisted it into a type of slavery. Yet it still denied the bonding of sorcerers to those of the royal bloodline that the magic itself liked. It was this strange half forgotten taboo that made Merlin hold even tighter to his magic as it tried over and over to escape his hold, and hug Arthur.

Behind him Arthur was shooting daggers at Gauis. Arthur knew that the healer had only a faint sliver of magic available, but he was not above trying to manipulate it to his advantage. Just because it had never worked before did not mean it would not work this time. Catching Gauis' eyes he said, "Gauis...OW!" He scowled as he rubbed his ribs where Merlin had jabbed his elbow into them.

"Shhh," Merlin hissed before flashing a sickly smile at Gauis. Gauis seemed to chuckle a little under his breath before respectfully nodding towards Arthur.

"Sire. I see you have met my new apprentice. As you can see he has arrived just in time to help me with this new disease that has appeared."

"Magical?"

Gauis' eyebrow rose at Arthur's question, and he looked back down at the, now, pale white corpse. "That would certainly explain that flash of reddish-blue flames, and, perhaps, why it has, so far, only attacked certain people."

"How many? Who? And did they all exhibit that same flash of reddish-blue flames?" Arthur felt Merlin tense up a little at that last question, but he could not take it back now, or not ask it, if he wanted to protect Merlin from his father.

Gauis walked over to where he kept some of his more dangerous remedies. "It has infected five sorcerer's second born sons, all of which had no magical potential, but I now suspect might of had the ability to pass it on through their genes." Picking up a reddish-blue liquid filled bottle he walked back saying, "Evan here was the first to be struck down, and the first to die. I had used this mixture of Ypericon and Aconite as I believed the black spots to be a type of tumor." He shook his head. "They still may be tumors formed by a sort of magical gene attacking cancer, but I would need the source, the sorcerer, and permission to use my magic in order to have any hope of crafting a cure."

Arthur gave a soft sigh as he rolled his eyes. As if his father would give permission to save the magical community when he was trying to eradicate it in the first place. Uther only allowed his own court sorcerer, Nimueh, to use her magic to torture other sorcerers for information on where others may be hidden, or, in rare cases, to kill when war threatened. The only reason Arthur's half-sister, Morgana, still lived was because his father had thought her visions would be useful once she grew into them, and her personal guard, Leon, had spirited her away two nights before her twenty-first birthday.

"I will help track the source and sorcerer, but..."

Guais nodded as he sadly said, "I know. Yet I believe once the disease gains momentum the King may have no choice. I do not really understand how this gene is passed on, or how it switches from inactive to active, so there may be no telling how many are actually at risk."

"Oh gods," Merlin shuddered at the implication that the whole of Camelot may be at the mercy of this deadly magical menace.

Merlin turned his head to catch Arthur's stunned eyes with his, a silent question in them. Arthur slowly shook his head, in answer. His father might target the magical community, but the entire kingdom, never.

Gauis slowly put forth a guess as he said, "Perhaps whoever manufactured this disease only meant to target those with magical potential. Isolating the magical gene would certainly indicate that this would be their motive. I suspect the sorcerer who did this, or was ordered to do this, quickly succumbed to the disease he created." Gauis stopped a moment to offer a silent prayer to the Goddess for that unknown sorcerer before continuing, "The idea that this particular gene may be laying dormant in hundreds of non-magical citizens may have never entered into their plans."

"That would imply that Camelot was not the actual target."

Gauis nodded as he set the bottle down beside the body. "I regret that I have more questions than answers at the moment, Sire. With Merlin's help I hope to find some answers before this disease spirals out of our control. For now I must confine, and isolate the remaining victims."

"Merlin stays with me," Arthur growled out, causing Gauis to look thoughtfully at him.

Merlin nervously shifted from one foot to the other. "I am not going anywhere with you, you insolent prat of a knight."

Arthur tightly griped the back of Merlin's shirt. "Where should we start looking for the source, Gauis?"


End file.
